


Breathe Deeply

by orphan_account



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst and Humor, Arc Reactor, Chest infection, Feels, M/M, Sick Tony, Steve cares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-18
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-11-29 18:05:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/689903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony keeps getting chest infections. Its really annoying. </p><p>Steve sees Tony getting sick a lot. Its really worrying.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Discovery

Tony noticed a tickling sensation in his chest when he was modifying the thrusters on his Iron Suit, It was three Am and he’d been up for hours working. He took a sip from a coffee mug that was sitting next to his hand, but the drink was stone cold and Tony made a “bleh” type noise when he tasted it. He placed his palm to his forehead, no fever, and then tentatively checked his lymph nodes, not swollen. So he wasn’t coming down his flu then, that was a relief, because if he did then the Oh so great Captain America would bench him for a week; on the pretence that Tony should put his energy into getting better. When in reality, Steve would do it to piss Tony off. That did that a lot, Tony and Steve; it seemed that even the tower with its many rooms and floors couldn’t house two massive egos at once.

Tony stretched, and then faulted, as a feeling of dizziness made him sway gently in his chair. He ripped off his welding goggles and massaged his temples with his thumb and forefinger. He was not getting sick, not for the second time this month. Not after pretending to go to California for a business trip when really he was in a hospital bed being pumped with antibiotics then snuck off to his Malibu home to grab the minimum required days of bed rest. Thankfully, nobody seemed to notice how pale he looked when he returned to the tower.

“JARVIS?” Tony called to the ceiling.

“Yes Mr Stark?” replied a cool sounding English monotone.

“...Is it hot in here or is it just me?” Had the air con broken? He’d fixed it not a month ago.

“The room temperature is the usual 24 degrees Sir.” JARVIS paused. “Are you feeling unwell again sir? The Doctor advised you-“

“I know what the Doctor said JARVIS.” Tony clipped, cutting off the artificial intelligence. “It’s NOT that, I’m sure of it, it’s probably just a cold.” The multitude of screens were suddenly a strain on the genius’s eyes and he spun in his chair, thinking.

There was a soft whirring sound and the room became cooler. “I have decreased the room temperature by 5 per cent Sir, this should be more comfortable, but if other symptoms occur then it would be advisable to seek medical attention.” The AI sounded concerned, if a computer could express any emotions that is.

Tony snorted and waved him off, sending bluish holograms darting around the space. Numbers and calculations flashed in Tony’s peripheral vision. “Yes mom, now if you’ll excuse me.” He grabbed the coffee mug and held it to a nearby sensor, shaking it lightly. “Outta caffeine, and that’s more important.”

The glass door slid open smoothly and Tony climbed the stairs, which took him more effort than usual, but he still refused to admit he might be sick. Walking down the hallway to the Kitchen, Tony noticed a soft squeaking or whistling. It sounded like a trolley wheel in need of oiling. He stopped the middle of the kitchen, to catch his breath, only after climbing a few small stairs. This wouldn’t do at all. Maybe he could take some Advil...no, that would clash with some other meds he was taking for a cracked rib that was almost healed, but it was better to be safe. Since when had Tony Stark start thinking about safe? He was Ironman, an Avenger, he fought robots, aliens and icy Norse gods on a regular basis; _safe_ didn’t come in to it.

That’s why Pepper left him.

Tony was suddenly overcome by darkness; a sort of fuzzy blackness like TV static swam into view and he found it difficult to stand in one place without swaying. Coffee was needed here. He wobbled over to the counter and flicked the switch; a quiet bubbling soothed his nerves.

He was determined not to think about his breakup, but the harder he tried to forget the clearer the picture became. She came into his lab, crying, red faced. Tony had jumped up and asked her what’s wrong, and, whatever it was, he could fix it. Then she looked at the floor and sniffed, Tony held her hands, he just wanted to make her feel better. She was sad, and he wished he knew why. Turns out he was the reason. Pepper already packed her bags, she had a plan, and Tony wasn’t a part of it.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

When she said “this” she really meant Tony, she couldn’t live with Tony anymore.

The Coffee clicked off, finished in the time it took for Tony’s introspection. He grumbled and poured the hot brown liquid into his cup, still wheezing, still tired. He took a big gulp that should have burned his mouth; but years of drinking coffee hot had rendered him immune. He took a moment to gaze lazily around the Kitchen, and the empty living room. Everything was still, and the shadows were chased away but the glowing light of the Arc Reactor. Something else Tony had gotten used to...that’s how it would be with pepper, he get used to not having her around. He’d adapt, he’d create and innovate, he'd move on. If the universe would allow him that.

“Mmm wha-Tony?” a very tired voice asked from the hallway.

Clearly not.

Tony knew who it was, the heavy footsteps and the nocturnal habits could only belong to Captain America. The one person Tony really didn’t feel like talking to in his condition.

There was a yawn and some stretching noises, the heavy footsteps got closer until Tony could feel a warm presence by his left shoulder. “Was goin on?” Steve slurred, tired, why wasn’t he in bed?

“That’s my name, well, my nickname really, I was Antony until 3rd grade then I switched to Tony because it sounded cooler.” Tony hoped his babbling would throw Steve off the scent, or at least annoy him into going back to bed.

“Sorry I didn’t-” Steve rubbed his eyes with his massive fingers and scrubbed at his face. “Wassat noise?”

Tony became rigid. “What noise?”

Steve dropped his hand and looked Tony dead in the eyes; he had to look down, as Tony was a good deal shorter than he was. “That sort of...whistling –wait a moment.” Steve leaned in closer; Tony leant back in response but was stopped by the counter top. The good captain titled his head and put his ear really, really close to where the Arc Reactor was. Tony was getting more and more freaked out by this personal space invasion by the minute and when Steve suddenly withdrew and opened his mouth Tony bolted. Or he tried to, the dizziness came back and he had to steady himself on a nearby stool, then tried to make it look like that was his destination all along. Steve looked very confused, in a sort of puppy dog type way.

“It’s coming from your chest.” He said, less sleepy know and in concerned mode. “Do you have Asthma?”

“That’s some seriously impressive hearing you have there _spangles_.” Tony quipped, flashing a winning grin. “And no, I don’t.”

Steve took a few steps closer to Tony, not ruffled by his snippiness.  “Are you sick? I’ve heard you coughing and that noise isn’t anything good, you should-” Steve pressed his fingers to Tony’s forehead, checking for a fever.

“I already did that.” Tony mumbled, and for no reason at all, pressed his nose against Cap’s outstretched hand.

Okay. Tony defiantly preferred I’m-angry-at-you Captain or You-disappoint-me Captain over the motherly ball of fluff Steve was being right now. To hear Steve have concern in his voice, to feel a safeness and a want for release after Pepper...it was too soon, and too late at night for this. To top it all off, Steve let Tony _nuzzle_ his hand; like a goat at a petting zoo looking for food.

“Tony...I think you might be sick.”

Before Tony could utter a “No shit Sherlock” or get out of there, alarm bells sounded off in the tower like the fourth of July Parade. The city was being attacked.

Goody goody gumdrops.


	2. Diagnosis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eugh..I know exactly what Tony is going through. I had a chest infection myself not too long ago..it wasn't nice at all. 
> 
> Thx for reading and commenting ^^

After one long and quite frankly tedious battle with this week's invading Alien race, Tony was just about ready to pass out in the Avenger tower's lobby. Natasha had shown her usual amount of efficiency by choking the outer space intruders with her thighs, there were men who'd pay for her to do that, and for her efforts she gained a black eye. Bruce ruined a perfectly good shirt and Clint needed stitches in various places. Of course, Thor and Captain America didn't so much as break a nail. Physical perfection be damned.

At least It gave Steve something else to think about so he wasn't sniffing around in Tony’s business. Or so he thought. Tony didn't stay for the debriefing, because he didn't want to ruin the nice carpets by passing out in the conference room. He was dead on his feet; JARVIS did most of the work in getting him home.

"Sir?" JARVIS asked as the heavy armour was removed from Tony’s frame "There is an incoming from Captain Rogers"

Tony yawned. "Put him on voicemail J...I need to fix something." He sighed with considerable tiredness and slumped over his work bench and grabbed the watch-amal-callit he'd been working on. Tony picked up a spanner from the floor and idly tweaked with...maybe it was an engine? He didn't care; he just needed to take his mind off the irritating high pitched wheezing and a worrying constriction in his chest. If Pepper was there, she'd tell him to stop being a stubborn idiot and that if he valued being alive he should drop everything and go to bed. Of course...she wasn't there anymore, so, Tony could do as he liked. He could run himself into the ground and no one could stop him.

"Hey, Tony? Are you down here?" Someone called.

Except maybe Steve Rogers who'd just so happened to find his way down to Tony’s lab. Natasha was going to get a piece of his mind. Maybe.

"Tony! C'mon, there's no point in pretending you can't hear me, Miss Romanov said you'd be here. I can see you anyways." The voice was right outside Tony's workshop. Tony wondered whether he could hide under the desk.

"Alright, ignore me if you want." Said Steve, annoyed. "I'll just punch the code in." A few button presses later and the glass door that had separated the two had slid out of sight. With a good amount of manly bristling, Steve marched directly over to the desk. Time to face up to impending doom; it didn't help that Steve was ridiculously tall today.

"It really irks me when you ignore-err, Tony, why are you on the floor?"

Tony raised a dark eyebrow. "I'm not..." He looked around, he was clinging on to the desk with his left arm, the chair had seemingly rolled away of its own accord, and Tony was, indeed, on the floor. Oh.

Tony made an "ah-hah" type noise and smiled weakly at Steve. "Thought I was shrinking for as minute there, what a relief."

"Jokes? really?" Replied the good Captain, deadpan, but still with a look of worry.

Before Tony could protest he was hauled to his feet like sack of potatoes, the sudden height made him dizzy and he shrank away from Steve. The fuzzy TV static was clouding his vision once again.  A sudden warm pressure was at his side and when Tony’s eyes cleared, he looked up, Steve’s massive hand was on his ribcage; steadying him.

“Don’t you dare look me in the eye and tell me you’re not sick Tony.” Steve said simply, his Captain America voice creeping in. He still hadn’t removed his hand.

Tony had an inkling desire to fidget, but he might topple over so he settled to spread his weight evenly on his feet and tried to look...stable.

“Okay. I might have a bit a cold or flu or something I don’t know, buts its nothing I can’t handle, hell I could practically invent a cure for the common cold right now if I wanted-” he babbled.

Tony noticed out the corner of his eye that the lab door was still open; a perfect escape route.

Steve remained quiet at first but halfway through Tony’s insecure motor mouth moment he spluttered out “A bit of a cold?! A _cold_? Tony you all but collapsed, you can’t even keep your darn head up-” But Tony was already halfway across the lab. “Where are you?...”

“Coffee run, want some? No? Okay more for me.” Tony scurried up the stairs like a shoo’d cat, leaving Steve alone with his mouth agape.

The good Captain let out a string of words no gentlemen should use, but this was a serious situation. “JARVIS?” he called tentatively at the ceiling.

“Yes Captain Rogers?” replied the AI.

Steve jumped two feet in the air, still not used to talking to a super computer who lived in the walls. The future was strange.

“Mary and Joseph...you scared me.” Steve laughed, shakily.

“Apologies Captain.” The AI sounded as sincere as a computer could. “May I be of some assistance?”

Steve let out a long breath. “Sure you can, umm, it’s about Tony. He’s as sick as a dog, but he won’t admit it and I’m really worried.” He looked up at the ceiling. “I know he’s hiding somthin’ because he was talking gobbledygook, he only ever does that when something’s wrong and is it just me or has he had the same cough for weeks?”

There was silence. Then JARVIS spoke again.

“You assume correctly Captain; I believe that sir has contracted a chest infection or at least, a bad case of influenza.” The AI paused, taking an imaginary breath. “Sir has allowed his illness to remain untreated and it has worsened.”

Steve felt the moisture drain from his mouth. “Why didn’t he tell me...us?” he asked out load. “When you say prone, how prone exactly?”

The AI responded immediately. “In order for Mr Stark to have the Arc Reactor implanted into his chest a portion of his ribcage and some muscle and lung ad to be removed. Unfortunately the surgery was performed in very poor conditions and bacteria were allowed to grow inside sir’s chest. Almost immediately after Mr Start returned from Afghanistan he contracted pneumonia-”

 It was like opening Pandora’s Box; JARVIS’s monotone didn’t help to disguise the crushing reality of the words. Steve’s mind stopped processing what the AI was saying and he began to daydream, daydream about Tony; sick, helpless, in _pain._

“Okay. JARVIS, I think I understand.” Steve was surprised by the breathless and ragged edge to his voice. His fists were balled into tight tense fists by his sides. “Is Tony still in the Kitchen?”

“Yes Captain Rogers.” If Steve didn’t know better, he could’ve sworn blind the AI sounded rather pleased with himself.

“Good.” With a steady pace, Steve left his spot in the middle of the lab and began made his way up the stairs, one at a time.

Upstairs, Tony was throwing up in the sink.


	3. Recovery

 

“Okay Mr Stark, breathe in”

The stethoscope was cold against Tony’s back, the cold metal poked between his ribcage. But that was nothing compared to the frosty stare he was getting from Steve; who was standing in the doorway, preventing Tony from bolting. Inwardly, Tony grumbled, he hated hospitals and anything associated with them. The horrid smell of disinfectant made him nauseous and the endless corridors with white walls made his head spin. Even when he’d broken a bone, or two, he’d rather have Dummy try to fix his leg then have strangers poking and prodding him.

“Hmm, breathe out.”

Tony had been breathing in and out for the last ten minutes and to be honest it was getting irritating, he was getting dizzy again, at least if he threw up they’d have a nurse mop the floor.

The Doctor, Tony’s personal physician actually (the things money can buy) removed the stethoscope from Tony’s flesh and frowned at a clipboard he was holding; more specifically at Tony’s test results. He clicked his tongue.

“It looks like you’ve contracted an upper respiratory tract infection Mr. Stark, your _third_ in two months.” The Doctor said with a tone of tiredness.

Tony could feel Steve’s anger congealing in the doorway, his blue eyes burning a hole right through Tony’s soul. Steve had a haunted look, with the appearance of an old soldier who’d seen too much trapped in a young body.

The Doctor continued on. “I’ll have to prescribe you some antibiotics; normal aspirin won’t cover it this time. The infection has been allowed to spread.”

“I’ll make sure he takes it.” Steve interjected, Tony replied with a choked off noise of retaliation but was quickly silenced under Captain America’s glare. Maybe Captain America really did have a super power.

The doctor scribbled on some paper and handed to Tony, but before he could take it Steve grabbed it folded it neatly and placed it in his shirt pocket. Tony couldn’t quite believe how big of a dick move that was, if he wasn’t struggling to keep his head up he would’ve cut Steve into little red, blue and white pieces. He settled to grit his teeth and sulk. After an awkward silence, the Doctor cleared his throat.

“Well, that seems to be in order.” He said. “Take the yellow pills twice a day with food, same applies to the pink ones but if you have a sensitive stomach I wouldn’t take them all together and no alcohol or-“

“Should I be taking notes? Cause I feel I should be writing this down.” Tony quipped, Steve rolled his eyes.

“I’ll remember everything Doctor, and thank you for fixing him up.” Steve said, taking the Doctor’s hand and shaking it firmly.

“Oh it’s my pleasure Mr Rogers.” The Doctor smiled.

Tony felt like a little kid, being talked about while he was sitting right there. The Doctor and Steve were getting on his last nerve, all he wanted was to crawl into a dark place with some coffee and wallow in his own self pity. Or whatever it was he was supposed to wallow in. As they left the Doctor’s office the Doctor shouted through the closing door. “Just make sure your partner takes it easy!”

Tony made a “WUT” type noise and his eyes widened comically and he wasn’t helped by Steve calling back “Will do, thanks again Doctor.” Tony, who was not having any of this and cursed Steve’s innocence, grabbed Steve by the arm and declared “Leaving!” and pulled him down the hall. Steve gave him a confused stare.

When they were in the Hospital parking lot Tony suddenly realised what he was wearing. He’d obviously just been bundled into whatever clothes were lying around, he was dressed in a pair of ratty jeans with holes in the knees, sneakers with no socks and an over large sweat shirt that probably wasn’t even his own.

“Great” Tony snapped, throwing his hands in the air. “I look like a hobo.”

Steve tried to stifle a giggle by biting his lip. “No you _don’t_ Tony” He fondly brushed down Tony’s shoulders “Does it matter really?”

“Err yeah!” Tony replied, with emphasis on the _yeah_. “I am Tony Stark; I am responsible for setting trends! I was on the cover of People more times that I can remember, I can’t be seen looking-” he pulled the sweatshirt over his mouth and breath in, then gagged “and smelling like this!”

In the time taken for Tony to rant Steve had got in the jaguar, started it, gotten out again and was now holding the door for Tony to climb in. Now that was efficiency.

“Your highness...” Steve said with grin and hand gesture to the car seat. Tony stuck his nose in the air and huffed. “Peasants...” he mumbled, but was also smiling. He clambered inside and curled up in a warm ball on the black leather seats. Steve revved the engine and set off at a steady speed.

Tony didn’t say anything, he’d fallen asleep.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I’m telling you Pepper, it’s like I’m a prisoner in my own tower, seriously! Steve has just gone into insane mode and won’t even let him go into the lab! What is this world war two? I’m done pep...seriously.”

On the other end of the phone Pepper radiated a feeling of I’m-laughing-at-you. “Wow, he really must be making you eat because this is the most you’ve said to me in weeks.”

Tony mumbled under his breath then shifted on the couch, the fluffy blanket that was draped over him falling to the floor. “I’ve been busy you know? Being Tony Stark is a full time job with crappy holidays.”

“Well, consider yourself on leave then” Said a dry voice.

Tony frowned and looked up; Steve was standing at the other end of the couch with a bowl of steaming soup in one hand and the other was one his hip. One of his golden eyebrows was raised and his lips hinted at a smile. Tony laughed nervously.

“Erm...”

“Is that Steve?” Pepper asked. “Is it? Because I want to thank him or give him a medal or something-”

“Oh what’s that? I-err-can’t hear you I’m in a tunnel –call you later bye!” Before Pepper could object Tony quickly hung up the phone and hid it under a pillow he was leaning on. He could hear Steve chuckling as he sat down, placing the orange coloured soup opposite Tony on the coffee table.

“That gal has the patience of a saint, what did she say?” Steve said conversationally.

Tony sniffed then shuffled around to place his feet in Steve’s lap, Steve then rested his hand on Tony’s foot; his fingers working their way between his toes. He probably didn’t realise he was doing it.

“Oh you know...” Tony waved his hand in the air dismissively. “Nagging woman stuff, telling to eat and sleep...nothing majorly important.”

Steve shook his head and pushed the bowl closer to Tony. “Eat that all up, you need to eat before you can take your pills.”

Tony eyed Steve then looked at the soup with distaste, as if it was sewer water. “Yucky.” He stated simply.

Steve crossed his arms. “What are you four years old?” he asked, not impressed. “It’s good, give it a try.”

Tony looked confused. “The soup or eating in general?”

Steve groaned and rubbed his eyes. “Both, for God sakes” He then looked serious. “You wanna go back to the hospital?”

Tony shook his head.

Steve grinned, and then flexed his fingers; tickling Tony’s feet. “Quit that.” Tony grumbled, trying not to laugh. He looked up at Steve; he had a knowing expression, one that shouldn’t belong to someone who was so youthful and full of life. It was a distant glint of wisdom collected over the years, the blue in his eyes were like the waves of Malibu gently brisling against the shoreline.

Steve’s eyes alone could have swallowed Tony whole, but for now he was happy to just sit here.

“Eat your soup Tony.”


End file.
